A Gift
by life.rhapsody
Summary: KakaIru. A gift that doesn't hold the memories it should.


Disclaimer: Don't own.

AN: Take place in the "Ours" universe, before Minoru. I'll try writing something that isn't in this universe...sometime. Slight spoiler to Kakashi Gaiden.

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Iruka frowned in his sleep when he snuggled closer to the other side of the bed to only find it empty. He sighed and cracked open his eyes to peer over at the alarm clock. I was a little past two am, but why was the space next to him empty? He smoothed his hand over the wrinkled sheets, and furrowed his brows when he noticed that the space was cooling. He pushed himself up on an arm and let his eyes adjust to the dark as he looked around the room. He waited a moment, listening, and sighed when he decided that it would be best to investigate rather than wait.

He climbed out of bed and pulled on a robe before wandering out of the bedroom. He moved down the hall and peeked into the dark kitchen and then the equally dark living room. He frowned when neither room contained his missing husband. He looked to the back of the house when a thought occurred to him and walked down the hall. He slowly opened the sliding door and gave a slow sigh when he found Kakashi on the garden bench. He stepped out on the deck and silently watched the older man sitting on the bench looking down at an object in his hands. After a long moment, he realized that the object was a kunai, a kunai that looked different than the regular, standard weapon all shinobi used. Something in the back of his mind told him that he had seen it before, but he couldn't quiet place it.

"It was a gift from my Sensei," Kakashi said softly, enough for Iruka to hear him. He turned the heavy weapon in his hand and looked up, a small smile trying to tug on his lips. He looked at the younger man, his husband, at the soft expression and equally soft eyes. He looked back down at the kunai and heard the soft footsteps on the grass, "It was a gift when I was promoted to Jounin."

Iruka sat down next to Kakashi, facing him, studying him with the aid of the dim moonlight and streetlights. He looked at the kunai that rested on the open palms of the pale hands and then back up at the older man.

"I used it once…," Kakashi said softly, almost tiredly, "Once." He turned the kunai over, "…And…in the past, I thought about using it again…"

Iruka continued to watch the older, continued to watch how the blue eye saddened at the admission. He knew, part of him knew…

"First my mother, my father…then Obito…Rin…my Sensei," he swallowed and turned the kunai over again, feeling its weight in the palm of his hands, "It felt as if everyone was leaving me…," he snorted, "Everyone did."

Iruka swallowed through the lump that was forming in his throat. Part of him knew that a child could only take so much, even a child that was known to be a genius, a great shinobi at such a young age. Part of him – _part of him _– wasn't surprised. Even though, it still hurt.

"That's when I decided to join ANBU," a sad smile tugged on his lips, "Thought it would be better than to prove everyone right and follow my father's footsteps, hm?" He felt a warm hand rest on his shoulder, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze before moving down, over his chilled forearm to rest over his wrist.

"I…I didn't know…you never told me…"

"It's not something I'm proud of…," he turned the kunai over again, feeling the cool blade on his palm. He sighed when the thumb gently rubbed against his wrist.

"…You couldn't sleep," Iruka said softly, and got a small nod in response.

"A nightmare," Kakashi sighed, remembering. It had been a long time since the last time he had a nightmare because they had lessened since he retired from missions. But there was that occasional nightmare that forced himself awake, and try not waking Iruka up in the process. He remembered laying awake and remember this special kunai he received when he was promoted. This kunai that at some point almost tempted him. A warm hand cupped his cheek and gently turned his gaze to the younger man sitting next to him, "I know," He said with a small smile, reading the chocolate eyes, "I know."

Iruka sighed and pulled the silver head towards his, resting their foreheads together. He stroked the scarred cheek with his knuckles and watched as the mismatched eyes close, "What do you want to do with this?"

Kakashi sighed and shook his head. He placed it in the tan hand near his, "I don't want to know…"

Iruka looked at the older man, cupping a pale cheek, "Are you sure?"

Kakashi nodded, "Hide it. Burry it. Destroy it. Sell it…I don't care…"

Iruka looked at the kunai in his hand, "…It was a gift…"

Kakashi sighed, "It doesn't hold the memories a gift should."

Iruka nodded in understanding and gave his husband a soft kiss, "Let's go back to bed, hm?" Kakashi looked at him, and he read the uncertain look in the mismatched eyes, "What is it?"

Kakashi hesitated, "Iruka…you…you don't think…I didn't tell you -"

"Kakashi," he interrupted gently, earning him an expression that looked lost and unsure, "I understand, love," he tenderly stroked the scarred cheek, "I understand." The mismatched eyes closed and the older man leaned into his touch. He leaned in and gave his husband a tender, reassuring kiss, trying to sooth any anxiety the older man had. He took a pale hand into his and stood, leading the older man back inside and into the warm bed. Before slipping into bed himself, he walked out of the bedroom and down to the hallway closet. He pulled out a slender, medium sized box from the top shelf and opened it, releasing the sense of nostalgia it contained inside. He didn't let himself think about it too much and placed the kunai inside. He wasn't sure where Kakashi had hidden it before, but he was pretty sure that the last time he had seen it was when they were packing to move.

He didn't know what to do with the kunai. Even though it held memories that Kakashi didn't appreciate, it still contained sentimental value. It was something that he couldn't sell, like Kakashi had suggested. Kakashi didn't want to see it again, that much was clear, he didn't want to know what was done to it, where it was hidden or how much it was sold for. For now, Iruka decided to hide it. To put it in this keepsake box, and hide it. For now, Iruka didn't have the heart to get rid of it.

He slipped the box back into its shelf and closed the door before moving back into the bedroom where Kakashi propped himself up on an elbow. He smiled as he moved to the bed, slipping out of his robe and under the covers where he was pulled closer, against the strong, warm body. Long fingers threaded into his hair, coaxing him back into sleep as he slipped his own arm around the older man.

Kakashi smiled when Iruka snuggled closer and relaxed further against him. He couldn't help but think how much things have changed since this man became a part of his life, a part of him. How he didn't fear death, when death was part of the job, his duty. For so many years, he was a weapon, nothing else.

When he officially met Iruka, when they began to be more than just friends, and feelings that he never quiet experienced let alone understood surfaced, he found his reason to make sure he came back home. He found a reason to care. He found a reason.

The swell of sudden emotion that filled his chest made him tighten his hold around the younger man, eliciting a sleepy soft sigh from the sleeping man. A smile tugged on his lips when Iruka sleepily nuzzled his face into his neck, and softly hummed against his skin.

He didn't think that Iruka would know just how grateful he was, just how much he loves him, that the words "I love you" just weren't sufficient. But that was why he would try to make Iruka understand, one way or another, everyday.


End file.
